Mizuki observed the excited gray dwarves with an impassive gaze.

  Ever since he demonstrated how effortlessly he could refine raw mountain ore into workable steel, the dwarves immediately worked up as if they were injected with chicken blood.

  Their enthusiasm was infectious, though Mizuki himself wasn’t particurly keen on handling their intrigue. Instead, Ayumi was the one who schemed for this, assisting in selecting the most productive individuals among them. The first pair of prosthetics were crafted for these two dwarves.

  The first recipient was an elder gray dwarf—a Rank 1 craftsman with a long gray beard, his wrinkled face carrying the weight of over four centuries. Genetic mapping by Kasumi confirmed his age at approximately 412 Terran years. Though his cultivation had waned with time, proper medical care could extend his lifespan by another hundred years. His skeletomuscur structure indicated a lifetime dedicated to craftsmanship rather than combat.

  The second was a younger, Rank 0 gray dwarf—a combatant once skilled in wielding axes. His body, however, bore the scars of past battles; both arms, his right leg, and his right eye were permanently crippled by the Nyctors. Kasumi’s treatment had stabilized him and neutralized the corruption, but even his father, Vorrath, saw no justification in prolonging his suffering.

  While the first choice was due to a pragmatic decision, the second person was obviously a political move.

  Kasumi’s spider bot worked with precise efficiency, installing stainless steel prosthetics while the other watched in rapt attention, eager to understand the process.

  Yet Mizuki himself was only half-present, lost in thought.

  < Using military equipment to refine metal is creative, albeit inefficient. Your Excellency, I suggest finding another method of refinement. > Gurren’s voice carried a tinge of concern, < You must also suppress your AT-Field usage. Utilizing Research Unit Ayumi to find a new solution is advised. >

  ‘I know…’ Mizuki inwardly defended himself. Ayumi had already id out a long-term pn to manage his dwindling cultivation base and resources, but the shock factor, the sheer impact of dispying his power was worth more than slow, methodical progress designed by Ayumi.

  After all, he had received new intel gathered by his Wraiths looming outside his AT-Field.

  "We need to accelerate the AT-Field integration and probably refine a new mortal shell for my use because…” he shared the new intel to Ayumi and the rest.

  < Understood. > Ayumi’s response carried an unmistakable sense of urgency.

  ….

  Some time earlier.

  Ancient Wraith Moroznyy Volkodav were finally summoned out of Mizuki’s Soul Phyctery through the [Scattered Chapters of Lemegeton]. As Mizuki’s eyes and ears in pces where technology faltered, Volkodav’s investigative abilities were unparalleled among the myriad undead in his master’s command. But the moment he scanned the world outside, he froze in shock

  This was not the familiar realspace where his very existence was rejected.

  Every time he was summoned, he required a mortal shell—a corpse, a puppet, or a specially treated vessel—to exist beyond the phyctery. Even then, his operational time was severely limited. Within the Holy Terra’s gactic supercluster, negative lifeforms like himself could not persist in realspace without anti-life containers such as a Soul Phyctery.

  After all, the dead have no space amongst the living.

  ‘The damned light-path ws are weak in this world…’ Volkodav mused, but his thoughts quickly turned grim. His cultivation base had plummeted—from Rank 4 Paragon to Rank 2 Lord.

  He was no longer an Ancient Wraith. He was merely a Wraith Lord.

  ‘Master Mizuki must’ve used my cultivation base to dey his cultivation decay… a smart decision.’ He noted grimly, realizing that even Mizuki himself had fallen from an Epic to a Paragon.

  Then, a telepathic order was given by his master: gather insect beast souls that he had sin outside the range of his AT-Field.

  As the gate from Mizuki’s soul phyctery is currently open, Volkodav summoned all of the wraith under his command. Disappointment washed over him when he realized his two hundred-strong Wraith Legion consisting of various wraith variants has been reduced to mere handfuls as Mizuki must’ve consumed them in order to maintain his strength.

  ‘I sense the remnant fluctuation of master Mizuki’s Harrowed Cohort other than me, but they are weakened and their subordinates reduced to mere handfuls like mine. There’s no sign of the Human Imperium either… master must've been stranded in this alien world alone.’

  The realization ignited a sense of duty within him. He had pledged to serve Mizuki through thick and thin—especially through the thin.

  He issued a telepathic order to his wraith subordinates: collect the scattered Nyctor souls.

  Volkodav himself is a Core Wraith, the original wraith ‘blueprint’ designed by the great progenitor of all undead in all Human Imperium; Grimsong Specter. His spectral body mostly consists of intangible ectopsmic matter, with tattered remnants of shadowy robes. Since he is the baseline wraith, his ‘racial ability’ is basic, but as the leader of the Wraith Legion of Mizuki’s Harrowed Cohort, depending on the mission he could take on some of the specialized wraith variant’s abilities to optimize his performance.

  As of now, he is taking the ability of Soulfyer Wraith, a wraith variant with cwed hands that could interact directly with souls.

  When he reached the magma ke—the peak concentration of lingering insect souls—he noticed something odd.

  Too many souls were roaming free.

  In death, a soul would separate from its corpses. Most lifeforms could not perceive souls, so they are, to a certain extent, invisible to the naked eye. Naturally, not every lifeform’s death will cause their souls to stay in realspace for too long. Typically they only exist for a fraction of a fraction of a second before dissipating. Their truesouls would shatter as they dissipate into soul fragments; an ectopsmic matter that does not interact with the material.

  Only strong truesouls of a certain extent can exist for a prolonged amount of time. This caused the ‘drop rate’ of truesouls that can be harvested by the Imperium for creating their undead extremely rare.

  Depending on the location, it is common to have a truesoul drop rate of 0,00001%. If it was a pnet with a long history of bloodbath and sacrificial rituals which has gathered resentment for untold milenia, the environment might allow a drop rate of a whooping 0,001%. On the other hand, if it was around an asteroid that has not seen death from the birth of the universe, it is almost impossible for a truesoul drop at all.

  Human Imperium’s undead would need to kill at least ten million lifeforms to get one intact truesouls, and he has to do it quickly else they dissipate. As truesouls and soul fragments are the primary resources for Mizuki to cultivate, the best method of replenishing or recovering his cultivation is literally through genocide.

  Truesouls are worth more compared to soul fragments, it was like an intact cow is far more precious compared to its fine hairs. In terms of efficiency, truesouls are hundreds if not thousand times more efficient when used for cultivation.

  “What happened to this world? It is as if it has a truesoul drop rate of 1%!” Volkodav mused as he grabbed an insectoid, crushed it, and used a certain method to consumed it.

  With a sickening, belching sound only spectral entities can hear, he gulped down a nyctor’s truesoul. At that moment, due to his special abilities to devour truesoul and soul fragments, he could sense his cultivation base increased. His near-depleted soul energy reserve noticeably recovered after consuming the rank 0 nyctor truesoul.

  ‘Bah, it has a disgusting taste… its as if it has a corruption factor. Master is probably not aware of this yet.’ Volkodav instantly broadcast a telepathic order to the rest of his wraith subordinate to stop feasting upon nyctor truesouls but instead harvest them instead, fear of the corruption.

  Even in their death, the nyctors are still a menace. Some of these souls have self awareness and began fighting the wraiths. However, they literally just died, unlike Volkodav’s subordinates who had died centuries, and some were millennia ago. They have mastered their form, granted abilities by the great undead ancestor, and have countless years of combat experience. Any small skirmish that might happen ended in one strike where the nyctor’s truesoul are quickly taken away.

  On the skies above the va kes, Volkodav’s pace of approaching a nyctor true soul, using a sealing method to turn them into a soul ball, and store it away is extremely quick. He was changing one wraith form to another incessantly depending on the nyctor’s bioform when it was still alive. In just minutes, the soul balls stored behind his cloaked figure have reached thousands.

  This was an unprecedented achievement. This level of yield can only be harvested after genociding an entire lunar colony. But then again, the fundamental ws of nature in this gactic supercluster are different compared to those of Holy Terra’s, so the metric of comparison is no longer the same.

  As he collected his 2,541th soul balls, he noticed movement in the va kes.

  At first, he was focused on solely collecting truesouls and paid little attention. As more and more truesouls dissipate and become soul fragments, the efficiency dropped significantly, prompting him to see around and look for more truesouls. Then, he saw what’s going on on the surface.

  Amongst the va ke down below, there were scavengers who were trying to get a piece of the pie. Unfortunately, the pie were the souls of dead nyctors, and the scavengers were also undead.

  The undead newcomers were skeletal figures draped in bck hoodies. They haven’t noticed the group of wraith in the skies above as they were too busy scavenging some of the fallen truesouls. Their truesoul extraction methods were less efficient than that of Volkodav and his entourage, but they were profiting from Mizuki’s effort, and he didn’t like it.

  At this distance, he still has a vague telepathic connection to Mizuki, so a quick prompt allowed him to receive a direct response.

  “Understood, I will send the rest back while I stay.” Due to his abilities and the fact that he’s the only Wraith Lord that Mizuki have that could work independently for a long time, he was trusted to infiltrate the group of undead.

  Quickly shifting into Nightveil Wraith form, his cloaked figure, already invisible to the naked eyes due to the darkness, becomes truly invisible from 24 spectrums of lights. Not that it matters anyway as there’s barely light in this world. Despite this, he still takes some precautions. In the Boundless Astral Realm, there are a countless creatures that could see in more than 24 spectrums of light, failing his mission because of a little mistake is intolerable.

  As he reached ground level, Volkodav observed the skeletal figures employing a form of magic that either solidified the va or allowed them to hover just above the threshold of unbearable heat. This granted them unrestricted movement as they systematically gathered soul fragments and salvageable remains—bones, carapaces, and other remnants of corpses barely left intact after Mizuki’s photon bombardment.

  Their movements were swift and methodical, as if they had performed this task countless times before. Yet, their efficiency was hindered by the crude method they used to extract truesouls and soul fragments.

  Suddenly, every skeletal figure froze in pce, their hollow sockets snapping upward as an intense wave of radiation swept through the area. Volkodav, unfamiliar with the energy signature, instinctively activated his spectral form’s intangibility, concealing himself as he pursued the retreating undead.

  The ground trembled violently, sending ripples across the molten kes. Then, he saw the source.

  A colossal, pale-winged reptilian creature with rugged, stone-like scales running through the area, diving headfirst into the va. Though the beast was completely alien, Volkodav’s senses quickly gauged its strength.

  At the very least, it was a Rank 2 Lord—just like him.